Hey, all! Again, and as always, thanks for the awesome reviews. Sorry for the delay in posting, but life is busy. I hope you all like the chapter.
*****
BELLAS POV
I was terrified. The wolf had me in his sights and wasn't backing down. Keeping my eyes on the wolf, I moved my hand around in my satchel, feeling for my gun. Maybe if I could fire it, the noise would frighten the wolf off. But even if I found it, the gun was snapped into its holster; I would have to use both hands to free it, and I was afraid that any large movements would cause the wolf to attack.
My hand finally closed around my holster. Very slowly I started to draw it from my bag. The wolf took a step closer. I froze. What was I going to do?
Out of the corner of my eye I caught movement at the edge of the trees. Instinctively I turned my head toward the movement. And saw Jasper. I felt an instant wave of relief when my eyes met his golden ones. I saw him take in the situation, saw the concern on his face.
"Bella, run!" he yelled to me.
I didn't hesitate. I started toward him. But my step prompted the wolf into action, and he sprang. I felt him hit me, the impact hurtling me backward. There was a sharp pain in my shoulder, and then my head slammed into something hard, and everything went black.
JASPERS POV
I didn't move fast enough to stop the wolf from reaching Bella. My indecision about whether to remain still or to try to reach Bella cost me the precious second that it took for the wolf to attack. It was upon her, knocked her hard to the ground. I saw her hit, and then she was still. The wolf was not. But before he could sink his teeth into Bella's throat I had him. I hit him at a full run and when my body slammed into him we rolled over each other through the deep snow.
The battle was short but violent. The young wolf was strong but I was furious, and I am almost ashamed to say that I showed him no mercy. And when I stood over his body, broken and bleeding, my anger had still not abated. For Bella lay not six feet away unconscious and bleeding. A fleeting thought passed through my mind that Jacob Black was really going to want to kill me now, for not only had I just savagely killed a wolf, but I had also let Bella get hurt. Fuck Jacob Black, I thought. I had more important things to think about right now. Like what I was going to do with Bella. I knew she needed to be attended to, but I had a big problem. The last time I had been near even a single drop of Bella Swan's blood I had tried to kill her. And the quantity of blood on her body was far more than a drop.
I couldn't keep myself from inhaling deeply. Edward had been right – her blood sang. She was unconscious – I could so easily taste her blood, drink her dry, and no one would ever know what had happened to her. It was tempting. I hadn't felt the desire for human blood for several years now. Not since, well, the last time I went after Bella. But I desired her blood now. Craved it, even.
Strangely, though, my desire to keep her safe outweighed my desire for her blood. So carefully, very carefully, I lifted her body out of the snow. I rolled my eyes heavenward as the scent of her blood filled my nostrils, clouded my senses. She had a deep gash in her shoulder that was still seeping. It looked like the wolf had bitten her. I pulled her torn coat over the wound, pressing it to the tear in her flesh in an attempt to staunch the blood flow.
Then, carrying her as carefully as I could, I ran eastward through the thickening snow deeper into the forest.
BELLAS POV
It was dark. So dark. My eyelids felt like weights. When I was finally able to fight them open, it was still dark. And I had a hell of a headache.
I lay still, trying to orient myself, trying to remember where I was. But honestly, I had no idea. I sat up then sucked in my breath when I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. Carefully I reached up and touched my shoulder gingerly. I felt a soft shirt, but beneath it something firm. A bandage? Testing, I moved my arm. It was stiff and very sore, like the rest of my body. The wolf had definitely done some damage.
Satisfied that though my limbs were sore they were all still there, I looked around me. I was in a bed, large and soft, with a down comforter that trapped in the warmth. The pillows behind me were equally as soft and smelled slightly spicy, a mixture of sandalwood and mint. My eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the room and I could make out a window covered by drawn curtains, a dresser, a chair, and a small stone fireplace. I had never seen this place before, and had absolutely no idea where I was.
Very carefully, very slowly, I climbed out of the bed. I was wearing a pair of soft flannel pants that were too big, and a baggy t-shirt. I concentrated hard, trying to remember what had happened. I had no trouble remembering the wolf. But everything after that was a blur. I ran a hand through my hair and felt a large, tender bump at the back of my head. I must have hit it on something. Maybe that was shy I couldn't remember what had happened.
I found the door; it swung noiselessly on its hinges. The hallway was equally as dim as the room. The plank floor was covered by a long braided rag-rug that ran down the entire length of the hallway. There were closed doors on either side of my as I passed through the hallway and I fleetingly wondered where they led, but I kept on going. I paused when I came to an open staircase. I had no idea what I would be getting into if I went down those steps.
Bit I took them slowly, one at a time.
The stairway opened up into a dark room lit only be a low-burning fire in a large fieldstone hearth. The ceiling was low and criss-crossed with half-log beams, and the reflection of the fire danced on the glass of the square-paned windows.
It was very quiet. The only sound in the – I guess from the appearance it had to be a – cabin was the crackling of the fire. I turned a small circle, my eyes taking in everything in the room. There were books. Lots of books. They lined the shelves of a large bookcase. On the mantle was a sculpture of twisting bronze, beautiful in its simplicity. The couch was leather, dark brown and comfortable-looking. And like in the hallway, rugs covered the hardwood floors. There was nothing extravagant about the room. In fact, it looked basic and lived-in. And very male. The dark lighting, the sparse furniture, the neutral colors – I couldn't imagine this being a woman's house.
Barefoot and a little chilled, I stepped to the hearth. It was odd, I thought, that there were no photographs on the mantle.
I turned, opening my back to the warmth of the flames, and when I did, saw a flash of gold deep in the shadows on the other side of the room. Surprised, I started violently and inhaled a loud gasp. The low chuckle that emanated from the shadows irritated my because it was familiar. Suddenly I knew where I was.
"Damn you, Jasper," I said, my voice betraying my anger. "You couldn't have let me know you were there? Instead you had to hide in the shadows and scare the hell out of me?" Then I added in a quieter, muttering voice, "Because I haven't been through enough today, what with getting attacked by a wild wolf and all."
"Oh, Bella, you always were a little melodramatic." His eyes didn't leave mine as Jasper glided forward, out of the shadows and toward me.
That made me furious. Melodramatic? The bastard.
"Where am I?" I demanded.
Jasper had stopped an arm's length away. The firelight sparked in his eyes, it his hair to shining gold. He looked relaxed and unconcerned. Well award of his ability to read and influence my emotions, I tried very hard to bury everything that I was feeling. Except maybe the anger. That I let smolder. I didn't care if he knew how pissed I was. He wore an irritating smirk on his face, one that I would have been compelled to admit made him look unbelievably hot is anger hadn't been clouding my thoughts.
"This is my home," Jasper said simply, spreading his arms out. "Welcome."
I was instantly suspicious. "Jake said that the house was a chalet-style, not a cabin," I argued.
"That is where the others live. This is where I live."
It made sense. Even back when Jasper was with the Cullens he had kept himself slightly distanced from the others. It looked like things were the same here.
"I see." I was uncomfortable with how close he was to me, but there was no way that I was going to be the one to back away.
"How are you feeling?" he asked. He reached a hand out toward the couch, indicating that I should sit down. Relieved, both because I was tired and because it gave me an excuse to step away from him, I complied.
"Sore," I admitted in response to his question. I didn't think that mentioning my pain would make me appear weak. Anyone who wasn't a little sore after being attacked by a two-hundred-pound wolf had to have super-strength. Or, I thought, narrowing my eyes at Jasper, who still stood looking down at me, vampire strength.
"That is to be expected." Jasper settled onto the other end of the couch. "You are fortunate to be alive. And very lucky that I happened along."
I shifted on the couch so that I faced him. "How did you 'happen' to be there, anyway?" I was a little suspicious about that part. Of all the thousands of acres in Denali, he 'happened' to be in that very same area as the one where I got attacked? The odds were astronomical.
"The suspicion is rolling off you in waves," Jasper said, sounding amused.
"Just answer the question," I demanded. I was in no mood to be mocked by the vampire. "How did you find me?"
Jasper lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. "The same way that I know you're good and pissed now. The same way that I know that you harbor resentment, anger, and a tiny sliver of hatred toward me. I sensed your feelings." He watched me carefully then, presumably waiting for my response.
"Did you know it was me?" I asked quietly. "Or is fear fear?"
"Each person's feelings have a uniqueness about them, kind of like a signature. The better I know someone, the more frequently I sense their feelings, the easier it is for me to identify whose feelings I am experiencing."
"So you knew it was me, then." For some reason, I was glad that he had responded to my fear, that he had come to help rather than just leaving me to fend for myself.
"I had a vague idea that it was you," Jasper said. "I was not positive."
Then I was confused. "How can that be?" I asked. "You've certainly spent lots of time with me."
He paused before he answered, and when he finally did speak, his voice was quiet. "Not really."
"What do you mean?"
"I did everything I could to stay away from you when we were in Forks. You p resented much too big a temptation for me, so I kept my distance. Until I couldn't."
It was odd; his voice sounded almost regretful. But I didn't want to talk about Forks, or about the Cullens. "What about the times you've been with me here?" I asked instead, to progress the conversation and keep the focus on the present.
"I haven't gotten any readings from you here."
"What do you mean?" I almost laughter, remembering the raging range of emotions that I had experienced since I saw Jasper in that coffee shop. "I've definitely had some feelings."
"I'm sure that's true," Jasper said with a nod. "But I haven't sensed any of them because I've been blocking you out."
"Blocking me out?" I didn't know whether to be relieved or offended.
"No offense meant," Jasper assured me.
I scowled at him. Sure, now he decided to acknowledge my feelings. "What do you mean you've been blocking me out?"
"It's just something that I learned from –" Jasper stopped himself, as if he had been about to say something he hadn't intended. He composed himself and continued, "something I learned. It's a way to shield myself from the feelings and emotions of others."
"So you can turn it off?" I didn't know that was possible. Immediately I thought about Edward. Edward had special abilities like Jasper, only Edward could read minds, not emotions. He used to get so tired of having to listen to the thoughts of everyone around him. I wondered if he had found the same kind of relief that Jasper had.
"Not completely." Jasper folded his hands behind his head and leveled his gaze at me. "If I concentrate on e single person, I can block the emotions coming from them. I'm still working on developing the skill to work on more than one person at a time."
"I see." It was very interesting that he had learned do that. "So tell me, Jasper, why don't you want to know what I'm feeling?"
JASPERS POV
Damn. Walked right into that one.
How was I supposed to answer that question? I don't really like you so I don't really care what you're feeling? No, a little too harsh even for Bella Swan. I didn't want to have to share your feelings of love and loss for my brother, my family? Closer to the truth. Perhaps too close.
Instead, I shrugged in a way I hoped looked casual. "To tell you the truth, Bella, I thought the less I knew about you, the better it would be for both of us." I watched her face carefully for her response. She looked thoughtful. Then, with a shrug very much like my own, she said, "Makes sense."
That surprised me. I had expected her to be affronted. But it sure made things easier this way. "I'm glad you agree," I told her.
"Oh," she said with a shake of her head," I just said that it made sense, not that I agree with you."
God, I really didn't want to argue. It was pressing my limits of tolerance just having her in the house. The last thing I needed was to get into a hot-blooded argument with her. But before I could say anything, she asked, "How badly am I hurt?"
I breathed a small sigh of relief. This I could talk freely about. "You've got a pretty deep laceration on your shoulder, from teeth or claws or both; I'm not really sure which. And you hit your head on a rock when you fell. You were unconscious for a while." I paused because she paled slightly, but then went on. "I cleaned your shoulder and stitched it up. I'm pretty sure you'll have a scar. I'm not quite as handy with a needle as Carlyle." I felt a little bad about the fact that this incident would leave a permanent mark on her body.
Her eyes met mine. "And the clothes?"
"Mine." I didn't blink. And I tried not to let myself think about what I had seen when I was dressing her wound and getting her into clean, dry clothes. It wouldn't be good for either of us.
"Thank you."
What? No indignant protest? No scandalized anger? Would I ever understand Bella Swan? Probably not. And neither do you want to, I reminded myself sharply. Nothing but trouble there.
"You're welcome."
"Could I impose upon you to drive me back to my truck?" Bella stood slowly. I could tell that she was being careful. Her shoulder must have really hurt.
"Nope," I said, retaining my seat on the couch.
She narrowed those brown eyes at me in a way that made me want to laugh. "I beg your pardon?"
"Hell of a storm going on outside. Can't go anywhere until it lets up," I explained.
"Really?" Damned if she didn't look like she suspected me of lying to her.
"See for yourself." I jerked my head toward the window. It had started snowing hard before I even got her back to the cabin. Truthfully, it was a relief because navigating through the heavy snow gave me something to think about other than the sweet smell of Bella's blood right under my nose.
She did go to the window. "Oh, my," she said when she looked out into the night and saw the blizzard. She turned back to me. "How long has it been doing that?"
"A couple hours," I told her.
One of her eyebrows arched upward. "How long have I been here?"
"A couple hours," I repeated.
She sighed. "Jacob's going to worried sick about me. I need to call him. Can I use your phone?"
"You could," I said slowly," but I don't have one."
She looked at me with disbelief. "You don't have a phone? At all?"
"Nope. The girls have one at their house that I use if I need one, but I didn't want one here. I prefer not to be so easily accessible."
"Whatever." Clearly, she thought I was crazy. Well, that was great. The feeling was mutual. "My cell phone was in my pack. I'll just use that. Did you bring it?"
"I did, but there's no cell service out here. It won't do you any good." I have to admit that I got a kick out of her annoyance.
"That's just great," she complained, returning to the couch and dropping down on it. I hid a smile at the wince of pain that crossed her face when her movements jarred her injured shoulder. Teach you to throw a fit, I thought, satisfied. Then, as if in retaliation for my lack of phone connection, she said sulkily, "Jake's going to be pissed that you killed that wolf."
I didn't tell her that the same thought had passed through my mind. Instead, I said, "Well, it was either you or the wolf. Maybe I made the wrong choice."
Bella glared at me. "What kind of person doesn't have any telephone at all?"
So we were back to that, were we? "I wouldn't know," I said.
"What do you mean by that?" Her voice still held a note of irritation, but I could tell the question was genuine. So I felt inclined to answer.
"I'm just not sure that I fall under the category of 'person', what with me being eternally damned and all."
She rolled her eyes at me. "Now you sound like Edward."
Strangely curious to hear her answer, I leaned forward, halving the distance between us, and asked, "Am I wrong?"
Bella's eyes met mine and held. She didn't back away from me, and neither did she answer sarcastically. Instead, her voice was thoughtful, serious. "I think that you are an immortal, and that comes with certain characteristics and certain consequences. There are some, like the nomads who came to Forks, who destroy life without thought or remorse. And then there are some, like you, who protect people from harm. Even though it doesn't beat, Jasper Hale, you have a good heart. Beings with good hearts don't get eternally damned."
I was stunned. Could she really feel that way after what I had done to her? I had tried to kill her, made her lose the man that she loved and those who had become her family. How could she call me good?
My mind was still trying to process her comments when Bella stood up and said, "I'm pretty tired, Jasper. Since I can't go home I guess I'm going to have to stay here. Got a place for me to sleep?"
The idea of her being under my roof for the entire night made me profoundly uncomfortable. Aside from my Denali family, I hadn't spent the night in a house with a woman since I left Alice and the Cullens. And Bella wasn't anything like them. She was human, with fresh, sweet-smelling blood coursing through her body. But she was right – there wasn't anywhere else for her to go. She had to stay.
Resigned to the situation and resolved to remain strong, I rose too. "Of course," I answered her question. "You can have my room. I don't actually use it for sleeping."
"I appreciate it," she said. And I could feel that she did. I led the way upstairs to my room, the same room I had left her sleeping in after I bandaged her shoulder. At the door I paused. "There's a bathroom right across the hall," I told her, pointing to the closed door. "You're welcome to whatever you need."
"Thank you."
I opened the door to my bedroom, switched on the light, and then stepped back into the hallway. I held out my arm, indicating that she should go it. She stopped just inside the doorway and turned back to face me.
"Thank you for what you did." Her eyes were earnest, the deep brown of them sharp and glinting. "Not just for saving my life but for bringing me back here and talking care of me."
I knew it cost her a lot to say that with the way she felt about me. "You're welcome," I said with a slight bow. Our eyes locked then, and held for what seemed to me like a lifetime. But then she took a step back and put her hand on the doorknob.
"Do I need to lock the door?" she asked. I knew she was only partially joking.
That's up to you," I told her. "Good night, Bella." Then I turned to walk away.
Her voice trailed behind me. "Good night, Jasper."
I listened carefully when she closed the door, and felt an odd surge of satisfaction when I didn't hear the click of the lock.